Ferret carefully balanced the large, tattered book as he approached home. A smile of excitement played upon his lips as he thought about the power that awaited him now that he was on his way to becoming a wizard. And the grudges he would settle.

As the sun set, Ferret's legs grew tired from the day's long journey across the vast expanse of the grasslands. But his determination pushed him onward until, at last, he reached the edge of the Great Forest of Shadows. Towering trees loomed above him, their thick canopy blocking much of the fading sunlight. Despite its name, Ferret needed help understanding what made this Forest great. The air was heavy with the scents of earth and pine, and every few steps revealed a new creature scurrying through the underbrush.

"Do you think there are elves?" Fizzit asked, peering about as one of the horrible things was about to jump out and skewer him with arrows.

"Elves? Not around here. They are all off in Elf-Home, which is miles away." Ferret only knew where their legendary homeland was, except it was across the River on the far side of the Grasslands. The same plain where many of his kin had been defeated. He decided defeated sounded better than slaughtered.

He had never seen the River, and no goblin had crossed it for generations. And Ferret was adamant about not being the first. Across the River was full of nasty things like knights, dwarves, and elves.

Not the Forest was much better. "We had better be careful," he said. "This place can be dangerous. We don't want to get eaten."

Fizzit jumped. "Eaten! By what?" He flapped his wings, preparing to launch at the slightest threat.

"Um," Ferret didn't know. "Um, spiders, and snakes, and spiders."

"You said spiders twice." Rat eyes narrowed.

"When so many things want to eat you, giving them names is not much point."

The homunculus snorted. "Who'd want to eat a goblin, anyway? You're all so filthy."

Ferret decided this was good news. Life was getting better.

Whether his uneventful passage through the Forrest was because of goblin stink, he passed through the Forest, reaching the Wall without some terrifying encounter. The goblin warren was in a land that was too rocky for the Forest and not steep enough to be called a mountain.

Nestled in a mountainous region with caves and caverns, this one was far from ideal for the goblins who called it home. However, it was the best they could manage amidst fierce competition with orcs, trolls, and ogres who claimed the more desirable caves as their own. The jagged entrance of the goblin cave was flanked by twisted roots and slick rocks, making it difficult to navigate. Inside, damp walls dripped with moisture, and the stench of rot hung heavy in the air. Despite its less-than-ideal conditions, the goblins were determined to make this cave their sanctuary in a hostile world of dangerous creatures.

As usual, the goblins hadn't bothered to set a guard, so Ferret headed straight in. All the monsters knew goblins had nothing worth taking.

He squeezed through a winding tunnel, the damp walls closing on him. He stepped carefully, trying to avoid the patches of stagnant water that collected in the tunnel because of poor drainage. It was a constant battle among the inhabitants of this warren for the driest and most comfortable sleeping spots.

Ferret intended to claim his position by the fire with his new magic. "The best position," he muttered. He was all-powerful now.

"Rat." He embraced the one goblin he almost called friend. Like Ferret, Rat was about four feet tall, green-skinned with long, skinny arms and legs. With his long nose and sharp ears, he was a typical goblin. They were litter mates, so in human terms, they were brothers. "I lost sight of you in the Battle. What happened?"

"I was spear carrier for one of the orcish bosses." The other goblin said. "When we saw a band of dwarves, he ordered me to follow and then charged them. I ran away."

Ferret and the other goblins nodded at his cleverness. An orc who turned his back on a goblin was asking for trouble. He greeted the few goblins he considered friends and asked of others. Most had fallen in the Battle. Some were eaten by ghouls, eaten by harpies, or got lost and ended up in the Great Swamp to be consumed by Hags.

Ferret looked about and did a quick count. There was only a score of them left. "Who's the boss now?"

"Brackish. After the giant eagle ripped off Marrow's head, Brackish took his axe and dared anyone to take it away from him."

Ferret's heart raced as he looked around to gauge their loyalties. When a new boss took over, ruthless toughs and bullies would soon surround them. In goblin society, one wrong step meant death, and Ferret knew he would have to tread carefully.

He found a spot by the cave wall not overly covered in garbage and cleared a place to sit. Goblin's ideas of sanitation involved throwing whatever was to hand into a convenient corner and ignoring it. Stinking garbage filled the warren, along with rotting food scraps and assorted debris. It was also home to an array of flies, cockroaches, and rats, so many rats. These often made it into the cooking pot themselves.

Ferret didn't know why it bothered him. Indeed, a month ago, he wouldn't have given it a second thought. Perhaps the demon had changed him more than he had thought. Before, he didn't know a triangle, let alone how to calculate the circumference.

He frowned to himself. Had he seen something about math in one of his books? He should have another look sometime. Right now, he had something to do.

"Right, time to take my place." He opened his book to the correct spell, the only spell other than the energy bolt he had managed to perform. The description said it would allow him to plant a thought into the simple-minded. And there was no goblin simpler-minded than Bug.

Bug, a goblin the size of a small boulder, lounged by the fire with his jagged teeth on display. He had made a name for himself as a bully and a sycophant to those stronger. Ferret secretly seethed at Bug's bullying and was determined to take him down.

He relaxed his mind, preparing it to shape the unnatural energies. Almost immediately, his fingers tingled at the feel of magic.

Ferret smiled to himself. The endless walking through the Grasslands had provided him time to practice his spell. This was his time. He smiled in anticipation.

He spoke the spell's words, commanding the otherworldly energies and guiding them into shape with the correct hand gestures. Familiar glowing lines, curves and angles became visible to his eyes, and Ferret guided them into position, completing his spell.

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Ferret frowned as the energy started to slip and slide as if made of oil. Oh, no! He suppressed his fear and forced himself to repeat the gestures until he moved the mana to flow correctly.

Ferret let out a shaky breath, feeling both relieved and anxious. He had done it! The energy flowed through him, and he directed the spell towards Bug.

"Get up," Ferret whispered. "Get up and give me your space."

The large goblin shuddered as the alien thoughts intruded his mind.

"Give me your place." Ferret willed his thoughts into Bug. He felt the spell working. He was a great wizard! "And give me all your food and your best stuff!"

Suddenly, the spell collapsed, the lines of energy unravelling. Desperately, he struggled to hold on, but the mana slipped away like water.

"What the fuck was that!" Bug bellowed as he staggered to his feet. He may not have understood magic, but he recognized the guilt in Ferret's panicked expression. "Was that you, you little shit?" Without waiting for an answer, he stormed towards the smaller goblin.

Ferret's tongue twisted as he desperately tried to recast the spell, his fingers fumbling over the delicate movements. But before he could finish, Bug charged forward, fists swinging wildly. The sound of knuckles hitting flesh echoed through the air.

Ferret's consciousness gradually returned to him as he found himself lying under a pile of garbage, likely where Bug had tossed him. His face throbbed from the impact of Bug's fists, and he cautiously explored a loose tooth with his tongue.

"I saw that coming," Fizzit said.

"Then why didn't you help?" Ferret spat bloody saliva. From the shooting pain in the ribs, Bug must have kicked Ferret.

"Did you see his size?" Fizzit hovered before him. "You've got to remember Wizardry is slow. It takes time to build up the mana necessary to cast spells. Wizards are thinkers, not warriors."

"Well, I think I got my arse handed to me." Ferret slumped back into the garbage and felt himself to see if anything was broken. He seemed to be intact, but something was missing.

"My bag, where is it?" Panic set in as Ferret frantically searched, thrashing around in a frenzy. "I can't lose it!" he cried, and Fizzit quickly joined in the search. Together, they finally found it buried under a pile of disgusting trash. Ferret tore open the bag and breathed a sigh of relief at seeing his precious spell books inside.

Gathering his satchel and its valuable contents, he made his way deep into the cave, seeking a quiet corner far from the warmth of the fire. There, he tended to his injuries and nursed his resentment without interruptions until he fell asleep, dreaming of revenge and triangles.

The following day, Ferret and the other lesser goblins had been kicked from their sleep and ordered out of the cave to forage for food. Bug's lips curled into a wicked grin as he caught sight of Ferret, causing the smaller goblin to scamper away in terror at the mere threat of a raised fist.

Ferret emerged, blinking into the sunlight. Despite having excellent night visions, goblins were not, by nature, nocturnal, unlike orcs. It was easier to see danger during the day and run away. He stood on a slight rise and surveyed the surrounding landscape. The Shadowed Forest stood about an imperial mile away through the sparse trees dotted the rocky plain. He wrinkled his nose at the scent of pine and damp earth. The Forest was always a source of both fear and fascination for him.

He glanced back at his fellow goblins and saw them scattered across the plain. Some dug through the dirt for roots and tubers, while others scavenged through the underbrush for berries. A few had even ventured towards the base of the Wall, their curiosity outweighing their fear.

Ferret sniffed at the air. "Snow is coming." He shuddered at the thought of winter fast approaching. It meant snow and cold and scarce food. Goblins were not known for their resilience during harsh seasons; many would not survive. Last winter had been brutal and unforgiving. The goblins had resorted to weeding out the weak ones, using them for food to ensure the survival of the more vital members of their tribe. Ferret had narrowly escaped this fate, but it still haunted him. He must endure and stay strong to pass another winter in these treacherous lands.

The goblins scuttled around, never staying in one place for too long. Some held onto sharp sticks while others constantly glanced around, trying to monitor everything. "What's happening?" Ferret asked a few goblins who took a break from their argument about whether lichen was edible.

"A nasty boar has been spotted nearby, attacking goblins and leaving their bodies mangled. The horrible thing had killed three of us the other day."

"That explains why the stronger goblins are hiding in the cave," Fizzit whispered in Ferret's ear.

"Why risk yourself while there were expendable minions available?" Ferret sighed, knowing expendable included him. "As if it wasn't bad enough that most of us had been killed in the battle."

One of the goblins waved his hand as he gave up on the lichen. "That's ancient history. We need to think about now."

"The battle was three days ago."

"That's what I said." The other goblin nodded. "Ancient history."

Ferret had foraged unsuccessfully for an hour before giving up. He knew he was better than this. "I should read my spells." He muttered, "Not looking for weeds."

Even though he had been foraging his entire life, his studies allowed him to see the world in a new light. Ferret could identify a dozen plants and herbs by referencing pictures in the elven book. What were once meaningless flowers were now Maiden's Lashes, Red Clover, Hawkweed, and Violas. He eagerly gathered a handful of petals, seeds, and stalks, feeling more connected to the natural world around him.

"I guess I need a pouch," Ferret said.

"And a belt," Fizzit added helpfully. "Pants wouldn't go astray."

"To hell with this!" Ferret threw down his collection of weeds. "I'm starving, and I bet there is a lot to eat in the forest."

"Aren't you afraid of the boar?" Fizzit asked as he winged over from where he had been perched on a rock.

As Ferret opened his mouth to respond, the bushes violently split apart, and a monstrous creature emerged. He only had a fraction of a second to register the massive mountain of bristling fur, gnashing teeth, and razor-sharp tusks before it lunged towards him with terrifying speed and bloodthirsty intent.

He dove to one side because it barrelled past him, its massive shoulder knocking off his feet like he was a blade of grass.

"Fuck me!" Ferret swore and spat out a mouthful of dirt. "That thing is huge!" Nearly double a goblin's height, it was an unstoppable force of nature. A force that intended to kill as many goblins as possible.

The enraged boar lunged at another goblin, its massive tusks slicing through flesh and bone with a sickening crunch. As it tore into the screaming creature, it bit down hard, severing a flailing arm in a shower of blood and gore, leaving only a stump. The scene was a gruesome display of primal violence.

Ferret glanced at the cave entrance, but it was on the farthest side of the monster. "Shit, I won't make it." There was only one thing left for him to try.

He inhaled deeply, then exhaled slowly. The beast's roars and the goblins' screams faded into the background as he focused on channelling magic. The winds of mana materialized in front of him.

This is it.

Ferret chanted his spell. Power thrummed through his veins. His green skin tingled, and he never felt so alive.

He didn't even mind when the boar spied him standing and turned towards him. The goblin ignored it to concentrate on shaping his spell, His Spell! He closed his eyes to see its shape better.

"Um, Ferret?" Fizzit said. "I think we might be in trouble here!"

The massive, enraged boar lunged forward with a deafening roar, its hooves pounding the ground in a thunderous rhythm that sent shockwaves through the earth. Its bristly coat rippled with each powerful stride as it closed in on him, a formidable and ferocious beast determined to attack.

"Ferret!" Fizzit screamed, taking wing to avoid being homunculus paste.

Ferret opened his eyes and released the spell. The energy lingered on his fingertips before leaping onto the boar only feet away. The glowing lines of magic sunk deep into the thick, leathery skin until Ferret felt the spell reach its tiny piggy brain.

"Sleep!" he whispered.

That night, there was a roast pig for dinner. The jubilant goblins had quickly speared the slumbering boar before dragging the body back into the cave before some other predator claimed their prize.

Now, it turned on a spike over the fire. Happy goblins feasted on torn flesh while fat dripped to sizzle amongst the coals. Salty, the new chief, had the hero of the hour sitting next to him as goblin girls brought platters of the best meat to them. Brackish gestured with his prize axe about something, but Ferret wasn't listening, sleepy from food and self-congratulations.

Bug threw him an evil glare at his prized position by the chief's side. Ferret couldn't resist making a rude gesture, but Bug dared do nothing with Brackish next to him.

Ferret's belly bulged with pork, and he pondered the possibility of getting one of the goblin lasses to find a quiet corner with him. This was the way life should be, he thought. Warmth, food, protection, and the respect of the strong.

A corner in the back of his brain screamed at him to pay attention as Brackish spoke about the tribe's newfound strength to the cheers of the assembled goblins, but he ignored it. "What could go wrong?" He had the feeling he may have said something he shouldn't have. He remembered boasting of great powers—the thought of what he might have agreed to fill him with a sinking feeling.

"What have I gotten myself into?"